


Femme Fatale

by Uakari



Category: Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle
Genre: Crack, F/F, Genderswap, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-22
Updated: 2010-10-22
Packaged: 2017-10-12 20:03:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/128521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Uakari/pseuds/Uakari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p> The boys find themselves in a strange world (which is apparently somewhere very close to the Jersey Shore judging by all the douche-bags lovely young gentlemen they meet) and must navigate life as women. Flailing ensues. </p>
            </blockquote>





	Femme Fatale

He stared at the reflection in the mirror, scrutinizing every last detail of the figure looking back at him. Strong lines, sharp angles, and gently undulating muscles rippling beneath his skin; even _he_ had to admit he was pretty hot.

Or, _she_ , as all anatomical evidence currently indicated.  _She_ was strikingly gorgeous, and _she_ was going to kick anyone who dared to use the words “pretty hot” to describe _her_ squarely in the ass. This sentiment owed a fair amount to her natural disposition (which, on bad days, teetered precariously between “stoic” and “kicked donkey,” but on good days tended to settle into a more comfortable ebb and flow of “grump/sigh”), however, it owed a great deal _more_ to a certain blonde's fake whistle and full-throated proclamation to the entire surrounding population that, “Hyuuu! Kuro-Sama looks pretty hot today!” upon landing in this topsy-turvy world.

Not that she’d really minded, at the time. Oh yes, there had been the standard flushing of cheeks and growling of threats, but wasn’t as if she really _disliked_ the attention. Hell, if she was being perfectly honest with herself, she would even go so far as to say she _enjoyed_ the teasing. Not that this little bit of honesty was _ever_ going to break free the confines of her own mind...

No, she hadn't _really_ minded being “pretty hot” until the manjuu had decided to inform a hapless passerby of this fact. And an old lady selling fruit. And the local police patrol. And the cab driver braking to ask them if they needed a lift. And their prospective landlord. It had almost gone so far as to announce her hotness to a passing bus full of school children, but had been forced to dive away from a swinging katana blade instead. Thankfully, swords were common in this world and her middling hotness did not land any of their party in jail on that particular day.

It had, however, steeled her resolve to identify whatever hallucinogen that Dimensional Witch had been binging on when she created these furballs and make damned sure it was banned in every dimension before they left.

This was all beside the point, however; she was stalling. As fascinating as her newly feminine physique was, it needed to be covered before going outside. She hadn’t actually traveled outside the confines of their home since they’d arrived, having agreed to tackle some minor repairs to the apartment in exchange for a week's rental. This had all been fine by her (though she had noted with some contempt that even when she was no longer bursting at the seams with brawn all of the heavily lifting still fell directly onto her shoulders...), but it also meant that any clothing the trio bought would have to be selected by the wizard or the kid.

 _Please, let the kid have picked out her clothes..._

She closed her eyes and reached for the pile, knowing instinctively that anything selected by the wizard was likely to be ridiculous, revealing, or a disturbing combination of the two - not something that would allow her to slip by unnoticed, and definitely not fit for a shinobi (or kunoichi now, she supposed).

 _Please, please, let the kid have picked out her clothes..._

She shook out the pile and breathed a sigh of relief. The sensible black top and trousers screamed “Syaoran” and she made a mental note to buy the b- _girl_ a stiff drink later as thanks. The only items that seemed to be missing were, well...unmentionables.

Had to be a mistake. Surely they weren’t that stupid that they would leave her to go commando...

She dumped the pile on the bed and scoured the surrounding floor.

Syaoran coughed as she approached Fay, who had taken up residence in the hallway j

ust outside the bedroom door. The wizard looked up with a grin.

“Is...Everything okay in there?” Syaoran asked, knowing full well that a grin from Fay could mean a wide range of things and that this range inevitably doubled when she was expecting a reaction from Kurogane.

“Yeah,” Fay breathed, a note of awe in her words, “He hasn't made a single disgruntled sound...”

“He’s taking this a lot better than I expected,” Syaoran admitted, leaning against the wall, “I really thought-”

“That he would freak out about being a woman in this world and rage against his titties?” Fay finished for the girl, taming her own laughter.

“Well...yeah,” Syaoran shifted, “He’s always been so, so...overtly _manly_.”

“ _Ahaha_! He _is_ overtly manly, isn’t he? But; he certainly doesn't hate women; at least, not enough to cry over becoming one. He was raised by some pretty powerful women, after all.”

Syaoran frowned. “That’s not necessarily what I mean. Even in Nihon there were some pretty heavily enforced gender roles, even if it's not your stereotypical patriarchy.”

“Yeah, but I don't think...” Fay trailed off, biting her lip, “He just likes order to things. He’ll probably just swap over to whatever he thinks womens’ roles are, right? They're supposed to be equal in honor and all that...”

“Until someone tells him he can't do something he enjoys because he’s a woman now.”

“Oh, Syaoran, you're so _sensible_ ,” Fay sighed. She eyed the door with renewed worry. “He’ll be fine...”

The door creaked open. “I can hear you two, you know.”

Syaoran blanched and turned her face away. Fay grinned.

“Kuro-sama has no shame, even as a woman.”

“You forgot something,” Kurogane narrowed her eyes, “I want underwear.”

Fay smiled sweetly and pointed. “I didn't foget anything, Kuro-pon; they're right over there!”

Kurogane squinted back into the bedroom. “Where?”

Fay crawled to her feet and swept past Kurogane. “Here!” she bent over quickly to retrieve a small black bundle which she dangled from her index finger.

Kurogane stared. “No.”

Fay pouted, “But you said you wanted underwear!”

“That is not underwear, that is dental floss.”

“It’s underwear!” Fay insisted, stretching the strings out between her fingers, “Look! It's clearly Kuro-shaped!”

“Dental floss,” Kurogane crossed her arms, “Are you trying to make some sort of statement about my...hygiene?”

“...What?” Fay sling-shotted the mess of strings at her grumpy companion, “Don’t tell me the great and mighty Kuro-Sama has met his match against a pair of cotton-blend panties...”

Kurogane let loose a long-suffering sigh and picked the “underwear” up from where they had fallen. Why did the idiot have to have a point? “Disturbingly comfortable...” she muttered as she pulled the obtrusive garment into positon.

“And it will hide your panty lines,” Fay chuckled as Kurogane jumped her pants on and fastened them, “From perverts.”

“You are the biggest pervert I know,” Kurogane grunted, settling back onto the bed, “I doubt anyone else is going to be eyeing me for panty lines. Especially with you running around in...That.”

Fay looked down, breifly appraising her own ensemble, then quickly back to Kurogane. “What’s wrong with it?” She pouted.

Kurogane closed her eyes and sighed. “Nothing's wrong with it.”

“It’s not all that different from anything I usually wear,” Fay continued, picking at her naval, which was clearly visible between the shirtails of the sheer blue blouse she had draped over an equally sheer camisole. “I thought you would just be happy I was wearing pants...”

Kurogane huffed and pulled the shirt over her head. “I don't care what you wear,” she paused, casting a long look at the wizard, “Just...”

“Yes, Kuro-sama?”

“Put on a bra.”

“Why?” Fay hefted one of her enormous breasts up for a closer inspection. They were quite fabulous, she’d decided immediately upon arriving in this world, and they made almost as good of toys as Kurogane's sanity. She loved them dearly and it seemed like such a shame to stuff them into confinement where they couldn’t bounce around be free...

“Because...” Kurogane stopped, sighing, “Never mind. Just wear what you like.”

“I think Kuro-rin is jealous,” Fay snickered, snaking a hand around to grope the ninja's chest, “Because he has itty-bitty-titties!”

“Knock that off!” Kurogane batted the hand away, scowling. She sat on the bed to pull on her socks. “What were you two gossiping about out there, anyway?

“Nothing, nothing,” Fay flopped down onto the mattress beside her, “So, are you joining Syaoran and I at the library today, or did you have other plans?”

“No. Landlord guy said it’s fine to handle a sword in public here. I want to get some practice in where I’m not going to take down a wall if I extend my elbow.”

“Are you sure?”

“Despite whatever you two think, I can handle myself in public. With a vagina, even.”

“I never said you couldn’t. I was just thinking-”

“As long as we're on the same page.”

“Waaah! Kuro-rin - listen to me!” Fay threw her arms around the other woman’s waist and burried her face in her chest, “Wow, Kuro-sama, they really are itty-bitty!” She squeezed one to confirm this.

“Stop that!” Kurogane insisted, smacking the hand away again, “What do you want?”

“I waaaaant Kuro-sama to go to lunch with meeee,” Fay whined, nursing her boxed knuckles, “But not if he's going to be even more of a beast than normal just because he's got tiny titties!”

Kuroane sighed. Why did her happy place always seem so far away at times like these?

Fay waived happily and blew a kiss as Kurogane stomped off the trolley. “Have a fun time with your big, bad sword, Kuro-tan!” She noticed only a small tremor from the other woman as she hurried away. Satisfied, Fay slouched back against a pole and crossed her arms over her head. “Do you know where exactly we’re heading?”

“Yes,” Syaoran replied, gripping lightly onto Mokona, who balanced precariously on her shoulders, as the trolley began to move again. She flipped open a notebook and began leafing through the pages, “I checked it out yesterday. There seems to be a large collection on the fifth floor and-” she paused, eyeing her companion with some concern, “Fay? Are you okay?”

“Ah... _ha_...” Fay was vaguely aware that her eyebrows were attempting to make a break for her hairline, but was more _acutely_ aware of a rather large, warm _something_ resting against her backside. And... _Squeezing_. She dropped her arms quickly and stepped away from the pole. “Just fine. You were saying...?”

“Right, so, there's a collection on the fifth floor that we should check out. It seems to have a lot of...”

Fay cursed silently as Syaoran's words once again bypassed her consciousness completely. That... _s_ _omething_ was back. And kneading more forecefully than before. Her first instinct was to grasp onto it as hard as she could and twist until she either felt a pop or heard a scream (which ever came first - and if they happened simultaneously, so much the better), but the more sensible part of her insisted that it might be an accident and that she didn't really want to end paying someone's medical expenses because she got a bit claustrophobic on a crowded trolley or wose, going to prison for assault and oh _GOD_ it was moving again! She took a deep breath and turned.

“Hi there!”

“What.” The man staring back at her didn't bother to articulate this as a question. Fay was impressed; he was tall, dark, handsome, and _clearly_ still attempting to grope her ass.

“I know it's a bit crowded, but could you not rest your hand on my, ah...posterior?”

“What are you talking about?” the man sneered, exchanging glances with the others around him. “You’re imagining things.”

“Of _course_ I am!,” Fay chirped, smiling brightly and turning back to Syaoran.  _Bastard_. At least now maybe he’d keep his hands to him-

Nope. There it was again.

Fay exhaled slowly and grasped the wrist, twisting just enough that she was sure the man was uncomfortable, and turned to face him again.

“ _Hyuu_! I have a _very_ vivid imagination, it would seem.”

“Like I said, sweetheart, you’re imagining things,” the man smiled, “It's crowded in here...and you’re really not my type.”

“Really, girly,” one of the others chimed in, “Don't flatter yourself. You’ve got nothing back there to hold onto anyway.”

Fay felt the begining of horribly innapropriate laughter building in her gut.   “Oh boys,” she managed, “There's no way you’re going to get a date with that kind of pick up!”

“Fay...”

“Really, you should always visually assess the ass you’re about to grope _before_ you do it. That way you don’t have to sound like a complete idiot when you decide it's not up to your standards after the fact!”

“Look, what's your problem, lady?” the man snapped and attempted to pry him arm away. She tightened her grip.

“Hmm, I don’t think the problem is mine,” she chuckled, deftly stepping to the side as one of the bigger men moved toward her, “Case in point: after a close visual inspection and no _real_ introduction, I can say without hestitation that I’d rather not partake of any...discrete fondling, as it were, with any of you fine lads. In time-” she hopped to avoid the casual swinging of a foot toward her ankles, “I imagine you’ll be able to do the same. Really, practice makes perfect, and you’re all obviously in need of some practice. Maybe leave the lights on next time - it can’t be _that_ small, can it?” she feinted, arm outstreched and hand cupped, toward the nearest man.

“Fay...”

“You bitch!” The man attempted to wrench his arm free again as he and his friends closed in around them. Fay laughed and dropped his arm.

“Besides which,” she murmured, voice suddenly cold as ice, “I’m not really in the mood today.” Her eyes narrowed as she watched one of the men curl his fingers into a fist.

“Fay...”

The smile slid back into place. “Look, Syaoran! It's our stop!” She grabbed the girl’s wrist as the trolley slowed to a halt and jumped, turning as she landed to smile and wave at the men still standing on the deck.

“Wow, what a bunch of idiots,” Fay frowned, taking in the look on her companion's face. “Syoaran...?"

Syaoran gaped. “I...I can't believe you just picked a fight with those guys,” she stammered.

“Picked a fight?”

“Fay didn't pick a fight,” Mokona interjected from his shoulder, “Mokona saw! That man pinched his butt! The only person allowed to pinch Fay's butt is Kuro-puu, and sometimes Fay even makes _him_ be-”

“That’s good enough, Mokona,” Fay said quietly, clamping a hand over its mouth, “But, thank you. Syaoran, why do you think I picked a fight?”

Syaoran balked. She had, hadn't she? She had been standing there, all stretched out lasciviously against the pole with her hands above her head, naval exposed for all the world to see, breasts unrestrained and flapping carelessly up and down like heavenly little ushagis instead of taped down like the fully armed and operational battlestations of sin ought to be...of _course_ someone was going to pull something like that! What had she expected? And then to go and taunt them like that...

“Syaoran?”

“Well, it’s just...” 

“You would have done it, too!” Mokona insisted, “If it were Sakura! If someone touched Sakura like that you would have kicked them right in the face!”

 _This was true_ , Syaoran supposed. But, Sakura wouldn't have been standing like that, inviting all sorts of unwanted attention. Sakura would have held herself _much_ more delicately, and anyone who _dared_ to touch her would be immediately dealt with like the filth they undoubtedly were. Fay, on the other hand, seemed to give no thought what-so-ever about the kind of stares she had been inviting with that little posture. Hell, he _always_ did that kind of thing; flopping over railings, stretching like a cat, wearing shirts that left his midrift open to the breeze...

 _Oh_.

Syaoran supposed it was inevitable that if _he_ always did those things, then _she_ would as well.

But, then why...?

Fay was a vicious tease and a flirt in every incarnation. Why had she just accused him of starting a fight by being him- _her_ self?

Because that man had touched her. And the situation had spiraled quickly from there.

But...she had been, well, Syaoran didn't want to say _asking for it_ , but Fay certainly hadn't done anything to discourage him... _Or maybe_...

“Syaoran!” Mokona bounced up and down worriedly, “What's wrong? Your eyes are crossing!”

The math wasn’t working out. Fay + Fayhavior = Disgruntled Kurogane. If Fay + Fayhavior = Sexual Assault as well, that would have to mean Disgruntled Kurogane = Sexual Assault. Syaoran shuddered at the thought before pushing it far, far away. No, no; that was all _very_ consensual; this much he was certain of. _Ah!_  Consent! Consent is key! 

Fay + Fayhavior - Consent = Sexual Assault

Disgruntled Kurogane + Consent = things Syaoran would rather not think about, but seemed to figure much more satisfactorily into the current arithmetic.

This was all getting very silly, she decided and blinked. Come to think of it, her eyes really did seem to be crossing...

“Syaoran!” Fay yelped as she caught the stumbling girl around the shoulders, “What's wrong?”

“I...I have a headache...” Syaoran mumbled dumbly, “And...and...I’m kind of a jerk...”

Fay smiled warmly and cupped Syaoran’s face in her hands. “You’re not a _jerk_ , Syaoran. But you _do_ look like you've just been hit by a bus. Let's get you home.”

“Okay,” Syaoran agreed, “But, let’s walk. I don’t want to get back on the trolley.”

Fay frowned. “It's so _far_...” she ruffled Syaoran's hair soothingly, “Besides, I really doubt something like that is going to happen again. It’s just a one-off...”

Kurogane grinned as she sliced six of the straw men she had set up earlier neatly in two. This femine body had taken her much less time to adapt to than she had feared. Her center of gravity was slightly higher than she was used to, and the lighter frame moved more swiftly (and if it was slightly less powerful, well, that was just the limits of physiology and she was fairly certain that she could still kick _your_ ass, _thankyouverymuch_ ) than she was accustomed to, but, all-in-all, it was something she could get used to. 

“Good form there, but I think you might want to keep your feet spread slightly wider and really work your back on the downswing.”

 _This guy, on the other hand..._

Her eyes narrowed into a formidable glare.

The man smiled back and continued to chatter away…

 _Augh_! How long was this guy planning to hang around here for? Was it really possible that he had failed to register the icy stares, the glacial glares, the over-all frigid atmosphere she’d been cultivating since he first showed up? It was like the Ornery Grunt of Malevolence held no meaning for him!

“But, really, if you increase your instep...”

And the advice... Oh sweet Kami, the _advice_. Never mind that she had twenty plus years of experience swinging a blade; she would have kicked her new recruits’ collective ass thrice over if they had actually applied any of the rubbish he was spewing. 

Why, _why_ wasn’t he going away?

She glared again and _thwacked_ haphazardly at a straw-head.

“Now, see, if you had increased your stance, like I said, you wouldn’t have hit me in the head with that straw doll...”

Fay hummed to herself as she settled down at the park table. She pointedly shifted the sunglasses that made her completely inconspicuous up her nose and rustled a newspaper open in front of her.

She frowned. She should have known she wouldn't be able to read it.

Oh, well. That wasn't really what she was here for, anyway.

She hoped Syaoran was feeling better. Once they had returned to their apartment, the girl had disappeared into her bedroom muttering something about a nap. It hadn’t escaped Fay's notice that Syaoran had tucked a copy of The Feminine Mystique under her arm before retiring, but Fay had decided against commenting - it wasn't as if she had much in the way of experience to help Syaoran sort out her, ehm, _feminine_ troubles. Mokona had insisted that Syaoran would be fine with a little rest and bounced off to keep her company.

Which left Fay with the options of staying at home to play with her deliciously fulsome funbags, or heading out into town. As sorely tempting as the first option had been, it didn’t provide the oportunity for stealthy Kuro-viewing. She did so love to watch hi- _her_ work up a sweat, after all.

Fay tilted the newspaper slightly and grinned. There she was, on the other edge of the clearing; all muscle and sinew and flowing energy. It was odd, but nice to find herself still _physcially_ attracted to the other here; she’d never held much interest in women before. But then, Kuro-sama was Kuro-sama and she had an inkling that the attraction would remain even if they were sexless amoebas floating in the gutter. She smiled as the slashing really began in earnest.  _Mmmm_...

Wait, who was that man?

And why did Kuro-rin look dangerously close to slicing his head off?

Kurogane was dangerously close to slicing this fool’s head off. She was getting soft, she just knew it. In the old days, she- _he_ would have just closed the distance between them in a single stride and relieved his shoulders of the empty head they were burdened with. Now, after years of traveling with the kid and the wizard, she was somewhat more subdued and preferred to settle things with a few nasty looks and the ocasional derisive grunt. This was usually more than enough to coax even the most ardent of bluffers into soiling themselves and running away.

Apparently, complete lack of a brain in an opponent was a game changer.

“So if you change your timing just slightly-”

“ENOUGH!” she roared, spinning to face him, “YOU’RE A GODDAMNED IDIOT! GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!”

The man blinked, stunned by the sudden outburst from the lovely young lady he’d been coaching. 

Kurogane waited.

The man blinked again. “I’m sorry, toots, what was that?”

“What did you just call me?”

“Toots. Tootsie. Tootsie-pie. Say, you’ve got a lot of pent up rage there, hon. It’s best not to handle a sword when you’re so worked up...”

That was it. It had been awhile since she’d torn someone limb from limb.

Fay rolled her eyes and set about folding her newspaper into a crane. The chase-and-slash game was all well and good, but it was _sooo_ much less entertaining when she wasn’t the one staring down the sharp edge of the blade. Though, she did have to admit that witnessing a ten-point “Lord of Suwa, Kneel Before Me” stomp and glare executed by a female body (with teeny, tiny titties) made for a rather amusing novelty. She wondered vaguely how long the other man would last and casually made note of the closest emergency call station. Not that she thought it would be necessary (Kuro-sama was definitely getting soft in hi- _her_ middling age); but it never hurt to be careful.

She folded the head down and leaned back to admire her handiwork.

“That’s not bad.”

She looked up to find a pink-haired man sitting down across from her. “Oh, hello” she trilled brightly, offering a small smile.

“Snookie,” the man introduced himself as he reached across the table for the crane. He smiled as Fay introduced herself and set about unfolding her creases.

“Oh...” Fay frowned. She wasn't particularly attached to the crane, but it _was_ hers...

“Lemme show you how to make a really cool one,” the man insisted, twisting, turning, and halving until he had produced a truly remarkable...

Paper crane.

Fay smiled. “It looks the same.”

“What?” his face dropped. “It’s has a reenforced belly! That means that not only can it float longer, it can also support twin ion cannons!”

“Really?”

“Yes!”

“What's an ion cannon?”

This earned Fay a patient look. “They're guns. You know, _bang bang_?”

“Oh, yes.  _Bang_.” Fay grinned, “And this is a crane.  _Flap flap_.” 

“I…” he sighed and handed the crane back to Fay, “I suppose it’s not really worth arguing with someone who can’t appreciate twin ion cannons. Anyway, I actually stopped by to see if you’d like to go to lunch with me.”

“Lunch?”

“Yes, you know, the meal you eat between breakfast and dinner.”

“Is it a common practice to insult someone before hitting on them in this country?”

“Insult?” he was indignant, “I haven’t insulted you! I upgraded your paper crane!”

“Yes, and I’m _so_ grateful. But I’m actually waiting for someone here, so I’ll have to pass.”

“Hmm,” he frowned, “Well, can I get your number? Maybe your email?”

“My what and my what?”

“No need to get bitchy.  What is it with girls like you, anyway? One minute you’re all flirty and the next you don’t want anything to do the guy. Broads don't know what you're missing.”

Fay stared. “I think we’ve misunderstood each other.”

“Whatever,” he stood and turned to leave, “I’m out of here. Stupid tease.”

Fay watched him walk away. What the hell had just happened?

Kurogane grinned. Another round won, and not a drop of blood spilt. She almost felt bad for the guy – _almost_ – but it really was his own fault that he’d taken a hard right into a merchant’s cart and tipped the damned thing over. That he’d buried himself in the process was really just icing on the cake.  _Ha!_  This was definitely not as satisfying as tearing him limb from limb, but at least this way she wouldn’t have to suffer through any lectures and scolding about being an unmanageable brute – you really had to pick your battles carefully.  _Ha!_  She’d show _them_ who could handle herself with a vagina in public! This was far more fitting, anyhow; dumbass couldn’t even watch where he was running and he was going to teach _her_ how to use a sword?  _Ha!_

Eventually, the post-victory high wore off and she was forced to confront the rather harsh reality that had left her standing in the middle of the high street, cackling like a madwoman. She pulled herself back together, brushed off her pants, and glared. The merchants around her sank back toward their carts.  _Good_. Now she could find her way back to the park in peace, and there should still be some time left over before the wizard showed up.

Her peace was short-lived. No sooner had she rounded the first corner than she found herself temporarily blinded by a well-aimed shot of perfume. When she opened her eyes again, she was seated in a tall chair with a fast talking woman hovering over her and pecking at her face with a small brush.

“I can’t believe a gorgeous girl like you goes out without make-up! We simply have to do your colors. Accent those cheekbones! Highlight your ey-” She stopped babbling as a more-powerful-than-anticipated hand closed around her wrist.

“Get the hell off of me.”

“But, darling-”

Kurogane gritted her teeth and silently got to her feet, gently but firmly pushing the woman off to the side. What the hell was wrong with these people? Who grabs someone off the street, much less _her_? She was terrifying. She was ornery. She was-

Being pulled into another cart.

“Now this right here will take care of that fly-away hair of yours, missy,” a large hand slathered a glob of…something into her hair. “No more worries about bad-”

“WHAT THE HELL?” She swiped furiously at her hair to scrape away the gunk and scowled at the man. “What the hell is wrong with you people?” she fumed, stomping away…

The strip of paper that caught her between the eyes was far warmer than paper should be. She swiped angrily at her forehead, eyes crossing in concentration, but the paper didn’t flutter away as expected. She yanked.

“AHHHHH!” Kurogane wasn’t sure what had just happened, but she _was_ sure that a sizable portion of her face had just been ripped away. She glared at the paper, half expecting to find a bloody mess, but only spotting a few stray hairs.

“And that will take care of your unibrow! Would you care for a full treatment?”

Kurogane’s newly separated eyebrows twitched.

There was something horrifically wrong with the mating customs in this world. In the past half hour, Fay had been approached by four different men, all but one of whom had proceeded to ramble on at length about horribly uninteresting topics and become suddenly and righteously offended when she, in turn, wasn’t interested in doing more than chatting. Fay was certainly no expert, but even she could spot the more glaring errors in the twisted logic which insisted she was expected to reciprocate inane babble with a blow job.

How did these people stomach being around one another long enough to actually procreate?

Apparently they were made of sterner stuff than she, as the unholy union of some poor schmucks had loosed this waste of flesh on the world. He sat sprawled out across from her, reclining in the shade and staring lecherously over the rims of his dark sunglasses, and droned on and on and on…

Having long since abandoned being charming to this world’s inhabitants, she had first attempted being polite, yet firm in suggesting that she was interested in neither engaging him in conversation nor disappearing into a dark alley with him. When this failed to discourage his advances, she had tried being rude, which, confusingly, had only encouraged him further. She had gone so far as to desert her Kuro-stalking post and trudge halfway across the park, only to find he had followed and camped next to her on the grass. Reluctant to wander too far away from where she knew Kurogane would eventually reappear (the ninja was nothing if not a creature of habit, and really, why should _she_ leave when she was not the problem here?), she’d decided that her energy was really much better conserved for activities with the possibility of bearing more fruit than talking this oaf away seemed to promise and was now staring blankly off into space and picking stray pieces of grass absentmindedly as he rambled on about something-or-other and stared at her breasts. It was fine. She could suffer until Kuro-sama reappeared, and then they could go far, far away from here and possibly work of some of that conserved energy. Yes, that would all be quite nice…

He was staring expectantly. Fay sighed. Apparently it was her turn to say something.

“Look, I get that they’re guns,” she muttered, drawing lazy patterns in the grass and refusing to meet his eyes, “What you still haven’t explained is why you need two of them and what the hell ‘ions’ are.”

“You’re too cute.”

“Am I?”

“It’s getting so hot out here, why don’t I take you somewhere nice and buy you a drink?”

“No.”

“You got other plans?”

“Yep.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Something like that.”

“Well if it’s only ‘like’ that, I’m sure he won’t mind.”

“She.”

“She?  You should invite her along.”

Fay paused, momentarily torn between punching him for the implication and laughing at his obliviousness. In the end, she opted for the middle ground and simply glared. Kurogane owed her. Owed her big. Why was she suddenly entertaining violent thoughts about how to get rid of this guy? He hadn’t even threatened her and she was finding the thought of breaking his nose disturbingly appealing. Why did the normal charm and gab fail so spectacularly as a means of deflection here? Was she losing her touch? And why, why, _why_ did she feel so boxed in, cornered, in the middle of public park in broad daylight?  This was against all the rules of combat!  _It made no sense…_

Still, she had to admire her opponent’s skill. It was disturbingly similar to the technique she had employed against Kurogane during their early acquaintance. 

Hers was better, though. Had to be.

Where the hell _was_ Kurogane, anyway?

“I’ve never dated lesbians before.”

No, hers was _definitely_ better.

The man started, dazzled by the blinding blue lights that suddenly erupted from the wizard’s fingertips and wrapped around his head, before slumping over into the grass. Fay smirked. That hadn’t been _too_ obvious, but she gave the surrounding area a quick once-over for gawkers, just in case.

How had this happened?

She remembered paper, and ripping, and blinding rage… And then a kindly little old lady had rescued her from the wretched market and invited her in for tea. This much she could process. The tea had been delicious, and the conversation polite. Her host had even gone out of her way to suggest a nice restaurant for dinner (it was going to have to be dinner – the lunch hour and come and gone and Kurogane could only cross her fingers and pray that the mage wasn’t going to be too upset about it), and offered to help her dress up for the occasion. She had politely refused and thanked the woman for tea…

Somehow, she’d still managed to leave with a face-full of makeup and loaded down with several thousand pounds of costume jewelry.  

She sulked through the town square, jangling as she went. She could only hope the kid and wizard had managed a more fruitful day than she had. What a waste…

“Kuro-sama?”

Kurogane looked up to find a distressed mage staring at her from a bench and mentally prepared herself for the inevitable scolding. She was taken completely by surprise when a moment later she was engulfed by long, groping arms and a decidedly hungry mouth.

“You bastard,” Fay hissed, “I’ve been looking all over for you. I thought one of these…these creeps had gotten to you and maybe you killed them and got arrested and locked away in a prison cell to rot and then I would have to break you out and it would all be so damned messy and, and, _and_ …”

“Shut _up_ ,” Kurogane insisted, stifling a grin, “It wasn’t _that_ bad.”

“Says the woman wearing clown make-up and walking with all the swagger of a limp noodle,” Fay pulled back, rubbing her thumb at the bright blue eyeshadow decorating Kurogane’s lids, “Although I do have to admit, it’s a nice distraction from your complete lack of bosoms…”

“Will you knock that off?” Kurogane pulled the wizard’s hand away from her face. “Let’s just go find some food.”

They stumbled into the nearest pub they could find and settled into a corner booth. They ordered the strongest alcohol they could manage and sat in silence, staring at the table.

“It’s hell,” Fay finally managed after a long while, “We’re in hell.”

“Hell,” Kurogane agreed, finishing her glass and pounding it against the tabletop.

“Everyone is rude, stubborn, and flies off the handle at the slightest provocation,” Fay continued, staring into her drink as she rolled it around her fingers, “It’s like an entire world filled with _you_.”

“What are you talking about?!” Kurogane spluttered, lips curling into a snarl, “People talk at you even when you ignore them, touch you without permission, and do whatever the hell they please to you, even when you threaten them – it’s a world filled with _you_!”

Fay narrowed her eyes. “So you’re saying-”

“I’m not saying anything you didn’t say first.”

“Look at them all,” Fay huffed, “Laughing and going about their day like this is a completely _normal_ way to behave,” she swallowed the last of her drink and set the cup carefully on the table. “Let’s go home.”

“Yeah…” Kurogane agreed. She’d had enough for one day.

The apartment was dark when they arrived, and quiet except for the slight moan of the wizard as she stretched her arms behind her back.

“Gods my shoulders are sore,” she grumbled as she slipped the key into the lock.

“Oh for…I told you to wear a bra!”

Fay chuckled as the door opened. “I thought you were just jealous. With your itty-”

“Don’t even finish that sentence,” Kurogane warned, pushing past Fay into the apartment. She paused, sniffing at the air. “Do you smell…?”

“That’s definitely smoke,” Fay finished, and hurried toward the kitchen. She stopped in the doorway, staring blankly. “Syaoran…what are you _doing_?”

Syaoran spun to face her companions. “Did you know,” she said, matter-of-factly, “That binding your breasts in these wired contraptions is another tool of the patriarchy to subjugate and repress womankind?”

“So you burned _all_ our bras?” Kurogane demanded.

“Yes. We’re free women now.”

“Oh my _BACK_!” Fay whined again, stomping past Syaoran into the hallway. “I’m going to bed. Syaoran, put the fire out. And find us some duct tape.”

“Duct tape?” Syaoran wondered.

“Some tits are made to be repressed, darling. Goodnight.”

Syaoran looked to Kurogane as Fay wandered into the bedroom. 

“Don’t look at me kid,” the ninja said, throwing her hands up, “I’ve got itty-bitty titties.” She sighed audibly and turned on the sink. “Put that out. I’m going to bed too.”

Syaoran sighed and deposited the burning bit of polyester into the sink. “Come on, Mokona. We’ll have to find a different way to smash the patriarchy in the morning…”

 **And because the boys should have _some_ fun as women....**

“Damn…” Kurogane settled back into the sheets.

“Yeah…” Fay breathed, settling next to her. “I guess not everything about this world is terrible…”

“No, definitely not. Where’d you learn how to do that?”

“Hmm?” Fay’s eyes drifted closed, “Which part, Kuro-sama?”

“The part with the… _you know_.”

“What, is Kuro-tan suddenly shy?”

“Hmph. Never mind. You’ve probably been playing with your own ever since we arrived here.”

“Practice makes perfect.”

“I should have known…”

“Oh shut up and let’s go for multiples…”

 


End file.
